


Everyone's Alive

by WordsFromAsh



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Angst, F/M, Feyre and Cassian friendship, Friendship, Inner Circle - Freeform, Rhys and Cassian friendship, post acomaf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 08:55:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10082408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WordsFromAsh/pseuds/WordsFromAsh
Summary: Cassian finally wakes after Hybern to discover he missed a lot while unconscous. Including the fact that his wings are still ruined, Feyre is missing, and he has a new High Lady.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I just need more inner circle friendships in the next book.

When consciousness returned slowly but surely in a haze, there was a murmur of voices from people close by. Years of fighting and survival told me to be on guard, but the scent in the air said otherwise. It smelled of the familiarity of home—of the faint salt from the sea, of rich spices, of Velaris. Overtop of that was a more potent scent of jasmine and citrus, not something connected to Velaris as a whole, but one I was familiar with enough to know regardless. Rhys. I was in his townhome then, for it to smell so strongly of him.

I didn’t remember falling asleep here, though. Or when his couch became so uncomfortable. Or even the last time Rhys _allowed_ me to sleep peacefully here without griping that his place wasn’t an inn and the House of Winds was a simple flight away. And I certainly wouldn’t have fallen asleep in such an awkward position. I hadn’t moved yet and I already knew my entire body was going to protest, especially my neck.

I groaned. It elicited a hitch in the murmured conversation.

Who the hell let me fall asleep on my stomach, anyway. It was too exposing and vulnerable of a position with wings—

My body went rigid and breathing paused.          

Wings.

My wings.

Everything stopped.

“Cassian?”

The fog dissipated. Panic emerged.

 _My wings_.

I tried to move them but found I couldn’t. And the pain. There was a sore pain throughout my entire being, but a central, terrible pain that flared along the tattered remains of what was left of my wings and sank into the muscles of my back where my wings attached to. I wanted to scream, to yell, but they only got stuck in my throat and made it hard to breathe around.

The cauldron. The Spring Court. Feyre’s sisters. Hybern. My—my _wings_.

I tried to push myself up. To twist around and see them for myself. To do _something._ But I couldn’t move. Not my legs, nor hands, not even turn my head to survey the room. Paralyzed. Useless. Not only my wings, but everything was gone and—

“Not paralyzed. A precaution,” Rhys said from somewhere to my right. He sounded tired, but nevertheless calculated with his words, reassured. I tried to search for him from the corner of my eye but saw nothing of my brother. “The first time you woke you started into blind rage but luckily passed out from the pain before you could do any more damage to yourself. Or undo any healing, for that matter.

“Azriel, if you could let the healer know he’s awake.”

Azriel must have made a nonverbal answer because I didn’t hear him. Only saw as he made his way out of the room—slow, with a gait that wasn’t quite right. And that’s when I remembered. Azriel had been injured as well. Poisoned. His heart.

“Azriel’s recovering. Still sore and it will be a few more days without flying, but we’re getting him up and walking now,” Rhys answered my thoughts and stepped into view. I was surprised by how disoriented he looked as well. His hair stuck up and his clothes were rumpled and dark circles formed beneath his eyes like he hadn’t gotten proper sleep in days. His mouth was drawn into a thin line as he looked down at me while his hands were held behind his back like he was assessing a soldier.

Solider. Without… I couldn’t be a soldier let alone the Commander of his armies. It was one thing to have a bastard-born for a Commander, but another thing to have a _flightless_ bastard-born Commander. He’d have to find a new one. If he was smart, he’d already have one lined up to… to replace me what with the inevitable war just on the horizon.

Rhys’s eyes darkened. “I’m not replacing you.”

 _Get out of my head_.

Rhys shook his. “I need to make sure you’re emotionally stable enough for me to let go of you.” Rhys’s eyes flicked over to meet my gaze. I at least had enough control of my body to narrow my eyes at him. “I wasn’t exaggerating earlier. If you make any rash movements, any repairs that have already happened on your wings will be ruined and the healer might not be able to correct them a second time.”

 _I’m fine_.

Rhys made a sound in the back of his throat that sounded like he disagreed with my thoughts.

I wasn’t fine, but I also didn’t have any plans of diving off a roof anytime soon—whether in an attempt to fly or with the intent to plunge to the ground.

“Stop that,” Rhys muttered. His brows furrowed as he concentrated on sifting through my emotions, thoughts, whatever it was he wanted to see for a few more moments while I glared at him all the while. “Do you feel any extensive pain? I can relieve you of some of it to make you more comfortable if so.”

There was pain, but I was already laid out in his living room and stripped of… I was already useless. I wouldn’t become more pathetic by having the pain siphoned away. _No._

It took a moment before he tipped his chin down in a nod. Then he released me from his daemati grip; nothing too incriminating must have turned up in his risk search of me.

I rolled my wrists just to feel myself move on my own and heard them crack and pop. I glanced back at Rhys, still standing there and studying me. “Well, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” I said, my voice rough from sleeping so long, the words sounded flat, even to me.

Rhys only managed a small smile that barely reached the corner of his mouth let alone his eyes. It was unsettling how subdued he was being. No, not just subdued, but _off_.

“How many days have I been out?” My neck still ached from laying in this position and I wanted to crack it. I shifted on the cot trying to look for a more comfortable position and ignored the narrowed look Rhys was giving me for moving too much.

“Ten days,” he said cautiously, eyes still trained on me. I could feel them staring, trying to pin me down and keep me still. But he didn’t need to try with his stern glare, because his words did it for him.

I froze. Ten days. I’d been out for ten days. I didn’t even want to consider what I’d missed in those days.

 “And my…” I trailed off knowing he would know what I still couldn’t say. I refused to say it. Afraid that even if I couldn’t even move my wings currently, that the words spoken aloud would hack them off and ground me forever.

Rhys shook his head. “The healers said it will take a while, but they expect a recovery.” He did not say _full_. A _full_ recovery.

I stared past my brother towards the shelves of books that lined the wall. For once I was grateful that I was positioned away from the windows and from the view of the skies beyond. I didn’t think I could muster seeing that in my current state. I closed my eyes and took a long, shuddering breath.

“Will I…“

I heard Rhys let out a breath and make his way to the chair across from my sickbed. “You’ve been improving better than what was initially expected when the healer first saw you. But if you’re asking whether you’ll fly again, I can’t say.” Rhys’s next words softened as he faltered, “I… don’t want to give you false hope in saying the wrong thing.”

My eyes squeezed shut as tight as my fists curled at my side. We sat in silence as I tried to process what he said. My chest felt tight and there was a lump in my throat I couldn’t get rid of no matter how many times I swallowed. I wouldn’t be able to… I wouldn’t…

“Cassian, I’m not saying….“

I shook my head into my pillow and Rhys trailed off. I could only imagine the sad look he would have if I were to look at him now. It took several breaths and a long stretch of palpable silence before I finally collected myself enough to mumble, “Everyone else, are they okay at least?” I wanted a new topic. Any topic that didn’t involve me or my lost—no.

I was met by silence. A long enough silence that it warranted looking over to Rhys. Despite the way he slouched in his chair, he seemed too tense. His thoughts appeared to be elsewhere as he stared at the rug. His furrowed brow created a shadow across his eyes. Something wasn’t right. Whatever was off about him before was more pronounced now.

“Everyone’s alive,” Rhys finally said. He sounded distant, though, just like he had after returning from Under the Mountain. Lost, like he couldn’t make sense of what happened and what was real. Like something was missing, just out of reach.

Everyone’s alive. It didn’t take long being around Rhys to know he always measured and weighed his words with caution and care. Even with all his Illyrian blood and training, he preferred to brandish words first before swords, content to run circles around you with mere phrasing. But I didn’t want to linger on his way with semantics right now. There was something he wasn’t telling me, but I would take the face value for now.

I lowered my cheek back against the pillow and watched him in wary silence. Everyone was alive. That was good enough. But if it was, Rhys didn’t act like it.

He stared at his hands that were clasped between his spread knees. He hadn’t relaxed a bit and looked so bent out of shape you would’ve thought he was the one who had lost his… I trailed off that thought again and was glad when Rhys finally spoke up with a distraction. Not that I preferred the topic he brought up.

“What do you remember last from Hybern?” He looked up briefly to meet my gaze and all I saw were the bags under his eyes.

It was a simple enough question, but the way he said it—carefully, like he was about to fly for the first time and wasn’t sure whether the wings would hold his weight. Like he was gauging whether _I_ could handle wherever this conversation was going. Like I was fragile and broken.

Anger sparked that caused my body to tense. I tried to ignore the pain that bit at my back and shoulders, but it must not have escaped Rhys for his gaze flicked from my face, to my bandages, and back again. A new frown pulled at his mouth. “The healer should be here soon,” he commented offhandedly.

I lifted a hand and waved off his comment the best I could. I didn’t need the coddling. “Feyre’s sisters,” I said and the irritation found its way into my words as well. Without thinking, the words slipped out in a rush: “How’s Nesta?”

Rhys raised an eyebrow. The most I’d seen his expression change from that mask of calm and control he was wearing. “Both Nesta,” he paused like he wanted to gauge my reaction. I kept a straight face and held his gaze, though, not willing to lead onto anything that I didn’t even fully understand myself yet. “and Elain are… safe. Alive. Mor is currently checking on them at the cabin as we speak. They’re… adjusting.” He shrugged like it wasn’t his mess to deal with, or if it was, it certainly wasn’t a priority.

A part of me wanted growl at his nonchalance. Instead, I let out a breath that I hadn’t been aware I was holding and was glad when Rhys didn’t comment on it. There was _something_ there when he’d mentioned Nesta, but there were too many other things going on to focus on _that_. She was alive, for now, that was good enough for me. Those other things would be sorted out in due time.

“So Mor is fine, too?” I grabbed for the rest of the straws of information I could. The little tidbits that Rhys was slowly let slip out of his hand.

Rhys nodded. He pressed the palms of his hands flat together and raised them in front of his mouth. He leaned forward. “Upset with me. But mainly worried. About you. About Az. About—“ He cut himself off and swallowed. A pang of hurt flashed across his face and stayed in his eyes.

And that’s when I realized what was off about him. What was off about this entire place.

If I focused, I could catch the scent of the rest of the inner circle. Rhys, the strongest, being his home and all. Az was the second most potent due to him sharing the makeshift sickbay with me. I could smell Mor’s ample amount time spent at our bedsides and even Amren’s scent was mixed in there from the past week. But no Feyre. Just the stale traces of her from all the time spent in this room before everything went to hell.

She would have been in here at some point, especially since she lived here. Feyre wasn’t the kind of person who just forgot about others, who cast them off whenever they were broken and of no use anymore.

I looked at Rhys. His crumpled attire, his messy hair, the circles growing beneath his eyes.

Everyone’s alive. Not fine. Not okay. _Alive_.

“What happened to her, Rhys?”

He only stared at me, a torn look on his face.

“What happened to Feyre? Where is she?”

No answer.

The anger returned. My arms ached as I managed to move them slowly but surely so that I could push myself up. If Rhys wasn’t going to update me on how she was doing, if he was going to censor more information from me, then I’d find out myself. He probably kept her upstairs tucked away in their bedroom for recovery. Stairs, I could handle stairs. What I couldn’t handle was Rhys’s Cauldron-damned dramatics right now.

“No,” Rhys finally ordered. His eyes tried to pin me to the cot.

I didn’t stop the growl this time. “No? _No_?” I had both hands position on either side of my chest, ready to push me up into something more of a kneeling position. The ache in my shoulders turned to flames. “This isn’t the time for your overprotective mating bond bullshit, Rhys!”

That broke the rigid demeanor Rhys had taken on and looked instead like I just punched him. Good. Wisps of smoke appeared and vanished just as quick behind his back. His fingers dug into the arm of the chair as he blinked in surprise. His mask was cracking.

I started to push myself up and spat, “Feyre isn’t just _yours._ She’s my friend, too, and if you won’t tell me what’s wrong with her, then—“

The atmosphere shifted unexpectedly as magic saturated the air and darkness swept from the corners of the room to swirl around him. My arms shook and I wasn’t sure whether it was from my own crippling exhaustion, or the effects of his power as it pressed me back against the table and held me there. “ _She’s not here_ ,” Rhys growled.

He pushed himself up in one fluid and lethal motion. The chair tipped back and clattered to the ground. The wisps of smoke behind him from just moments ago manifested fully into what had to be his wings. I didn’t look. I couldn’t. I focused instead on the talons that tore out from his knuckles and replaced his clenched fists.

“She’s not here! You can’t see her! No one has seen her! I haven’t—“ His voice was steadily rising but somewhere in the darkness that clouded around him, he broke off into something of a sob. There was a moment where all I could do was blink and try to comprehend what he meant that his mate, my friend—that _Feyre_ wasn’t here. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t wrap my mind around that. If anyone was missing it shouldn’t have been her. What did he mean she wasn’t _here_?

There was the broken sound of her name and finally the pressure in the room alleviated as he regained himself and placed a damper on his endless supply of power. I could breathe again and fell back onto the cot. By the time the shadows receded from the corners of the room, the talons and wings had disappeared from Rhys leaving behind an even more disheveled man in their wake.

Distantly, I was aware that the door in the hall had clicked open and closed. Az and the healer. I hoped he had the common sense to keep her in the vestibule during that... that… whatever _that_ was.

Rhys’s elbows locked as he rested his hands on his knees and leaned forward, taking a deep breath as he did so. He exhaled. “She’s not here,” he said more to himself than to me, but he looked up at me anyway.

I didn’t say anything.

Rhys sat there for a moment longer before he dragged himself up almost like one of those dolls held by wires that could be seen around The Rainbow, and snapped his fingers. The chair righted itself as did the other odds and ends in the room that had been disturbed. He lowered himself onto the edge of the seat and leaned forward to hide his face in his hands.

“I’m sorry,” he said. When he looked at me from above the tips of his fingers, his eyes looked clearer. It didn’t look like he was holding on by a thread anymore, ready to burst. “That wasn’t right for me to lose my temper, especially in your current state.”

I tried to ignore the latter half of his apology and focused on the first—if I focused on my brother’s problem, then it’d be easier to ignore my own.

Rhys always liked to keep his emotions bottled and mostly hidden from the rest of the inner circle. I had a feeling that I just experienced ten days’ worth of anger, worry, and whatever else was thrown into a roiling cocktail of emotions that he’d been stewing in behind his facade.

Add ten days of a brand-new mating bond rubbed raw from separation, and it was no longer surprising that he threw this fit. It was more surprising it didn’t happen sooner.

“You’re an insufferable ass, I know, it’s fine,” I growled.

I didn’t fully approve of it, but it was obvious Rhys needed that. And just like I happily took the punches after their mating bond was accepted, I would take the brunt of Rhys’s tantrum now. If this was the only way I could help him from now on, being his outlet, then fine. I’d at least be able to have some use around here again.

Rhys didn’t comment as he stared intently at the bandages on my back. “Are you all right?”

I experimented by rolling one of my shoulders back slightly and pain danced down my spine and up the nerves of my wings. I avoided Rhys’s stare and nodded anyway. Staring straight ahead at a bookcase I said, “What happened, Rhys?”

He let out a shuddering breath. “She’s alive,” he said, knowing full well what and who I meant. His answer didn’t give me anything to go off of, but it sounded like he needed to hear his own reassurances. I even found some of my own tension ebbing away at that insistence. “After her sisters were Made and you lost consciousness, Feyre—she—she realized that we weren’t all going to make it out of there.”

My eyes shot to his as panic struck me. What he was suggesting— No. No, no, no. “You didn’t leave her in Hybern. Rhys, please tell me you—“

He raised a hand. “She’s not in Hybern. She—” His face twisted into one of disgust and contempt.  “Feyre’s back in the Spring Court.”

It felt like the cot had been pulled out from under me. After everything we’d gone through—No. _No._ After everything _she_ had gone through—she was back in the blasted Spring Court? In that prison? I pushed myself up, ignoring the way my shoulders and back screamed as my arms tried to hold my weight again. If I hadn't been dead weight back in Hybern, then we could've had more options of escape. Then Feyre could be with her family and not--

“What are you doing?”

“First I’m going to punch you for leaving her with that bastard. Then we’re getting Feyre.”

“We will _not_ go get her,” Rhys said with every word delivered with a firm punctuation. The muscles in his jaw and neck tensed. “And even if we were to get her, you would still be in this bed and recovering. Which if you don’t stop moving, I _will_ forcefully hold you down.”

“Like hell I am, Rhys.” I grunted as I tried to move. “You can’t possibly leave her there. She’s _your mate_ and if you’re going to sit by and do nothing while she’s trapped there with those bastards then I’ll go get her myself--wings or no wings!”

She didn’t deserve that. So many people had given up on her in life. I wouldn’t be one of those people, too. And if her own mate wouldn’t—

There was a low, protective growl and Rhys’s upper lip curled into a snarl.  

“You will not,” Rhys said and I glared at him as I felt my body being lowered back against the cot on its own like I was a child being tucked into bed. He released his hold as soon as I was lying flat against the cot. His nostrils flared even as his eyes briefly lost their edge to them. “And that while I’m glad you care for Feyre, she chose to go back and would not want you to risk your recovery for her.”

“ _Like hell_ —“

Rhys rounded on me and shot me a look reserved for his High Lord persona. My jaw clenched as he said in a low and steady voice, “I would not let my _mate_ , my _queen_ , go back to that rotting court if she had not willed it that way. And while you are my Commander, my friend, my brother, and I value your words, I will not let even you suggest I do not care for my own mate.

“She saw an opportunity back in Hybern and seized it, no matter how foolish and dangerous a plan it was. She gave us an opportunity to escape and Feyre is now our spy in the Spring Court relaying all their information straight to me. She sacrificed herself for us _and_ for her court in order to hopefully end this war before it starts. And if you do not respect my own wishes to leave her be, fine. But I _do_ expect you to respect the wishes of your High Lady and you _will not_ undermine her sacrifices.”

I stared at him as I processed everything, but the only thing I could repeat was, “ _High Lady?”_ A grin I couldn’t control broke out as I thought of Feyre assuming the title and how perfect she was for it. She was truly Rhys’s equal, even down to performing sacrificial bullshit to protect the rest of the inner circle and court.

Rhys’s coolness faltered when he realized I wasn’t still fighting him. He nodded. “We confirmed her title the night before departing for Hybern. You missed the original announcement. Amren was about to murder me for leaving Feyre behind and I think she would have, too, if she wasn’t busy holding you and Azriel together.”

“She’s something, isn’t she?” I said absently, still turning over the news in my head. _High Lady._

That drew a close-lipped smile from Rhys and for a brief moment he didn’t seem as tired as he whispered, “She’s extraordinary.”

And then the smile was gone and the weight of our situation fell back on us. Rhys sighed before picking himself up off the chair like his body was the heaviest thing ever. He made his way over to me and carefully laid his hand on the edge of my shoulder. “I’m glad you’re awake, Cass. And we’re going to figure things out.” He rubbed a hand over his eyes, something I knew meant that he was reconsidering an idea that he’d already thought through multiple times. When he pulled his hand away he looked at the remains of my wings again, the shadow crossing his face. He looked like he wanted to say something but instead shook his head and stepped away from me.

“I should go write to Feyre and let her know you’re awake now. She’s been worried about you.” Rhys shoved his hands into his pockets. “And _you_ should behave for the healer. I’ll send her in on my way out and I’ll check on you again later.” He made his way to the doorway that led into the hall. He paused there on the threshold before he glanced back at me with his usual calm mask on. “You’re not going to deal with this alone, Cassian. We’re all here for you.”

My own smile disappeared at his words. The joy and pride of hearing about Feyre’s position was overshadowed by my own lack of use.

I turned my head the other way, but that must have been a good enough answer for Rhys because I soon heard hushed voices in the hall as he sent the healer in. She fussed with the bandages and reminded me not to move. And I took it all the while staring straight ahead.

I winced as the healer touched a sensitive spot along the root of my wings. Not pleasure, but pain. She hummed behind me and I gritted my teeth. The anger sparked again and was geared only towards myself as I balled my hands into fists to keep from any larger, more rash movements. Rhys's warning from earlier was sharp in my head as if he was speaking directly into my thoughts right now. Move and then maybe no recovery at all. My wings couldn’t be ruined. They couldn't stay ruined. Not when I had a family I was supposed to protect. A court and dreams I was to protect. And I had to be ready for when Feyre returned, so that I could be there this time when my friend, my High Lady, needed me.

              

 


End file.
